Tarantula (Oliver)

Silently You creep along the tangent to my tongue Begone Your tracks tingle and force me to scratch Don't look back Your thatch bends to the shape of my wavelength Sensation My nerves detach and burst into climax My senses collapse Consciences dispatch Gone with your touch Imagination Misconception Fabrication Self decepcion Disolation Indigestion Suppuration Decomposition With a crunch Blue juices coze out Your muscles stimulate my taste buds The flavours amass My visions start to clash I've conquered you at last Sickening molts unwrap buds Thought circuits start to lag Everything leaves me nauseous But I've conquered you at last